


Streetlight

by ForensicSpider98



Series: Light [4]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Adam is dead, Canon Compliant Season 7, Gen, I'm Sorry, If You Squint - Freeform, If you want - Freeform, Other characters mentioned - Freeform, Post-season 7, Voltron Crew bonding, allurance, basically some feels, klance, pre-Season 8
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-10-04 07:17:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17300210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForensicSpider98/pseuds/ForensicSpider98
Summary: "Coran wanders the street, checking in on the small-town inhabitants living just a half-mile away from Galaxy Garrison. It’s primitive, even considering the recent violence, but he understands the Paladins’ fondness for their home. It’s home, and that means you can look past pretty much anything."





	Streetlight

**Author's Note:**

> Tune it tomorrow for the last story, Candlelight!
> 
> Also, Coran is the unsung teacher of the entire series and I'm so bitter about it.

Coran wanders the street, checking in on the small-town inhabitants living just a half-mile away from Galaxy Garrison. It’s primitive, even considering the recent violence, but he understands the Paladins’ fondness for their home. It’s home, and that means you can look past pretty much anything.   
It’s not a bad little planet, Coran thinks. The people are lovely, humble, and kind. Depending on which Paladin he asks, they’ve either always been that way or only since the invasion. But humans, it seems to him, have an instinct to help one another, to share what they have. It’s uplifting after so much war and suffering and the constant bickering amongst Coalition members.   
As the sun sets and the streetlights flicker on, Coran passes Shiro and Keith, walking together, talking softly. Shiro’s face is a mask of grief, Keith’s of sadness, sorrow, and empathy. Coran’s heart aches for Shiro’s loss. He admires these two so much. They’re strong, determined, and inherently good despite their self-doubts.   
“Hey, Coran,” Keith says, giving a tired smile. “How are you doing? Are you being treated well?” Coran smiles.   
“I’m alright, son,” he says, putting a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “And your people have been more than accommodating.”   
“We _expect_ more than accommodating,” Shiro says. “We expect you to be welcomed with open arms. You’re one of us, Coran, in equal measure. If you need anything, want anything, please tell us, and we’ll make sure you get it.”   
“Thank you, boys. I’ll do that. And…if you gentlemen need anything, I’m here.”   
The boys nod, and the three parts ways, Coran continuing on alone.   
…   
“Zarkon? Why are you still here? I thought you would have gone home by now.”   
“Well, I-You see…Um. Can we talk?” Coran regarded the young emperor. He’d never seen the boy so uncomfortable.   
“Of course, son. What’s the matter?” Coran sat down on the floor next to the boy.   
“It’s just…Honvera. She’s not of Daibazaal. Were we to have a child, they would be half-blooded. Their struggle to maintain control should they succeed at the Kral Zera would be constant. The people wouldn’t possibly approve of this. And…Altea is her home. It would be cruel of me to ask her to forsake that, wouldn’t it?” Ah so it was that time in their relationship to reason your way into and out of things.   
“You wish to marry her?”   
“Yes.” Coran regarded the lad. Zarkon was a great leader. The worlds he conquered prospered without fail under his care. He was young, yes. But sometimes, Coran forgot just how young. Young enough to lack experience in love but also to still believe in it.   
It was easy to remember now, gazing at a glowing rift in the universe, sitting on the floor of a temporary research and containment base. The boy’s eyes were wide, face open and earnest.   
“Listen to me, my boy. You are an emperor. That is not only your birthright, but also what you chose to do when you lit the flame. Being an emperor, or any sort of leader really, is a lifelong commitment. You can choose to retire, pass on the torch, whatever, whenever you want. But regardless of what you decide to do in life, you will always be a leader. People will always come to you for help, for guidance.”   
Coran gazed up at the moons above them, the stars.    
“The path you’ve chosen isn’t easy. There is very little room for a life of your own. But you are in the unique position of being able to choose who you share that life with. I can’t tell you what to do, understand. I’m merely an advisor. But I can help point you in the right direction. Whomever you choose to share your life with, be sure it’s someone worthwhile, someone who will contribute to your life and happiness, rather than tear it down in favor of their own.”   
Zarkon nodded in Coran’s peripheral vision. A quick glance revealed the small smile on his lips. Coran’s own little smile widened in satisfaction. He’d known the boy would make the right decision. He’d be an emperor for the ages.   
…   
“Coran!” Coran turns, spotting the small Green Paladin running toward him.   
“Good evening, Pidge. How are you doing this fine evening?” Pidge fell in step beside him, and they walked together beneath the soft yellow streetlights.   
“I’m doing awesome! You?”   
“I’m quite well, thank you! Are you settling back in with your family?” Pidge suddenly looked away with a sheepish smile.   
“Well, I’m grounded until I turn 18, warp years notwithstanding.”   
“Whatever for?”    
“Oh. Mom’s furious with me for running away from the Garrison and then going off to fight a space war without telling her. Completely unfair. In the meantime, I’m helping her with the Atlas gardens.”   
“I thought you weren’t fond of gardening.”   
“Well, gardening in a desert is boring because nothing grows but cacti. But on the Atlas, we’re growing all sorts of things! We’re even trying to grow a juniberry plant! Wouldn’t that be so cool? It’s so exciting, isn’t it, learning something new? I never thought I’d like plants like this, but I’m really enjoying it. Maybe I’ll make it a hobby someday!”   
Coran smiled. Sweet little Pidge. Always inquisitive, always excited to learn something new. And always, always growing, always trying to make a difference wherever she could.   
…   
“Well, Trigel. What do you think?”   
“I…I don’t even know what to say. I’ve never seen anything like this.”   
Trigel stared, wide-eyed at the Altean landscape. Spring was in full bloom. The fields and rolling hills were covered in a blanket of juniberries, the purple mountains still capped with snow, meltwater cascading down their cracked and weathered faces.    
Coran offered a hand to help the Dalterian representative from her pod.   
“Sorry it’s a bit of a walk. We moved the Castle of Lions quite recently, once the Dias was completed.”   
Trigel took his offered arm, allowing him to lead her through the city. The Dalterian Belt was not half so advanced as Altea, and Coran did not miss how the young girl’s eyes went wider and wider, trying to take in every little detail of the new world around her. He smiled.   
“Oh, no. It’s fine. So how long is there snow on the mountains? Does it snow here in the city as well? How long do those flowers bloom? Is there a lot of biodiversity on Altea? Are klanmurils real? Is it true you have your own genetically distinct population of yelmores? Oh my stars, please can I see one of your alchemy labs? I’d love to see a demonstration of your teladuv if it’s not adverse to you.  Do Altean facial markings serve a purpose? Why can they be different colors? Are some colors more common that others? Does all of your technology involve alchemy or is some of it strictly science?”   
Coran chuckled. She may be an ambassador, but she had the heart of a child, full of questions and wonder and excitement. Still young enough to not be afraid of life. Trigel didn’t stop talking, asking questions and positing scenarios all the way to the Castle of Lions.   
“Oh, wow. It’s so large. I’ve never seen such an imposing structure in my life.”   
“Come, King Alfor is waiting for us inside.” Trigel froze, releasing Coran’s arm. “Are you alright dear?” Coran asked, concerned.   
“What-what if he doesn’t like me? I’m just…I come from such a simpler place. I couldn’t possibly comprehend the machinations involving a man with such influence. I’ll make a fool of myself for sure. What if he thinks me too simple? What if I say something wrong? What if break something? What if I can’t figure out what I can do to form a relationship with Altea? What if I can’t do it at all?!”   
A young girl indeed. Inexperienced. Untested. But filled with so much potential. Not unlike someone else Coran knew intimately. Coran put his hand on her shoulder.   
“You don’t have anything to worry about, my dear. You know, King Alfor was not born to nobility. He married into it.”   
“Really?”   
“Oh, yes. When Queen Melenor introduced us in fact, he promptly tripped over his own feet, knocked over a table, and almost caused a lantern to explode just by touching it.” Trigel laughed. “Oh, he was a nervous wreck, more of an adventurer than anything else. But he’s also a people person, so when it comes to working with others, he’s the one in charge. Queen Melenor handles things of a more strategic, logic-oriented nature. He deals with matters of the heart.” Trigel took a deep breath. “You have nothing to fear, my dear.”   
The girl smiled at him, not confident necessarily, but determined. She’d come here to seek help for her people, and she would get it one way or another. Coran saw potential in this one. He had no doubt that she would change the course of her peoples’ history forever.   
…   
Coran leaves Pidge at her house, where she is to retrieve the last of her belongings for her life on the Atlas. As he continues on alone, he registers the large yellow flowers opening on some of the spiny plants dotting the landscape. He reaches out to touch one of the thin, delicate petals. They are soft, sweet-smelling.   
“Watcha doing, Coran?” Coran jumps, turning to see Hunk eyeing him curiously.   
“Oh, I’m just…trying to figure things out,” he says, not wanted to bother the Yellow Paladin. Hunk smiles.   
“It’s called a cactus. They thrive in places like this,” he says, coming to stand next to Coran. “They can go very long times without water and can survive the harsh conditions. They don’t flower very often, but when they do, it’s really pretty, isn’t it?” Hunk smiles at the plant.   
“Yeah,” Coran sighs. “Yeah, it is. Huh. The plant’s rather ugly though, isn’t it?”   
“I suppose. Still, it’s kind of cool, right? That a plant could live out here? I mean, sometimes I’m amazed people can live out here. But that’s people for you. So stubborn and determined, y’know? People can do pretty much anything if they want it badly enough, for better or worse. I like to think usually for the better, personally.”   
…   
Gyrgan was the friend Coran hadn’t known they would want. He’d seemed a lumbering behemoth with an enormous appetite and dry sense of humor, nothing more. He spent a great portion of his time getting into eating contests against entire teams of Alteans. And winning. But he also the friend that kept King Alfor and the others from doing anything too foolish (such as trying to climb and active volcano [yesterday]). He was surprisingly gentle, too, able to soothe and comfort his teammates during distress (like when they burned themselves on hot volcanic rock). And he wasn't at all afraid to say "I told you so!"   
Coran was walking back from a stroll through the forest when he spotted Gyrgan one night down by the river. Just sitting there, staring at the mountains.   
“Gyrgan? What are you doing here, son?”   
“Oh, just thinking. Taking in the new scenery. I miss it sometimes, y’know. Rygnirath? I miss it. It’s so beautiful, with big yellow canyons and green forests. Giant birds that fly through the sea. Clawed serpents that glide through the trees. Small primates that live in the air, never touching the ground.”   
Coran didn't say anything. He knew he didn’t need to. Gyrgan just needed someone to talk to.   
“But it’s alright, really. I’m…I’m happy to be here. Alfor and the others are so out there sometimes, it amazes me we’re still alive. I guess it’s up to me be the voice of common sense sometimes. Alfor just wants an adventure, Zarkon just wants a good fight, Trigel just wants to learn, and Blaytz…” Gyrgan chuckled fondly. “Our baby just wants whatever’s right in front of him.” Coran laughed. “I honestly don’t know how anything gets done with that lot running the operation.”   
“Why not put yourself in charge?”   
“The same reason you don’t. If you really want to make the difference, then sometimes the best place to be is behind someone else. Helping and nurturing. I might have a more level head, but Alfor has the charisma. Zarkon has the strength of command. Those two are a force to be reckoned with, but sometimes they argue about the silliest things.” They both laughed. “But I love them dearly, even when they’re driving me up a wall. I’m happy to help steer them all in the right direction.”   
Gyran was the friend no one really expected to need. But once he was there, you couldn’t imagine going through life without him. Not a day goes by when Coran isn’t grateful for Gyrgan’s constant steadiness of character.   
…   
Coran had never spent a long period of time in a desert before, even with all the years he’d lived. As such, he’d forgotten how cold it could get at night. He remembers now, standing beneath another streetlight, looking at the rows of houses, some brand new, others still destroyed, people huddling in the doorways, accepting help from passers-by. There isn’t enough room for everyone. There isn’t enough aide. There’s only so much the Coalition can spare, even for the Voltron Paladins’ home world. And the team had decided not to put extra resources into Earth just because it was their home. It wasn’t right, they’d said, to play favorites like that. Not when so many people were desperate for help.   
Allura spots him and dances over, wrapping him in a warm hug.    
“Hi, Coran,” the Princess says. She still looks strange without her crown, Coran thinks. But he’s proud of her for casting it aside. She doesn’t need it anymore. She’s a leader in the making already and doesn’t need to wear proof of her strength. Allura can speak for herself.   
“Hello, Princess. How are you?”   
“I’m well, Coran. Just helping out where I can. If this is to be our home someday, I want these people to know that they can count on me to be here for them. They’ve been here for us, so it only seems fair to give back. After all, think of everything our team has done for us. They’ve never once made us feel like we’re less or unwelcome. They don’t treat us any different than their family or friends here.”   
“I know. I never realized just how much we meant to them until we arrived here. We really are a little family, aren’t we?”   
“So it would seem,” Allura says, waving goodbye as a small boy and girl with brown skin and blue eyes pull her away.   
…   
Blaytz arrived alone on Altea, having left his home planet of Nalquod under the pretext of exploring the universe. Coran and the others had their suspicions as to his reasons, especially given the sad smile he wore when he spoke of his home world. And given his habit of flirting with men. Nalquod wasn’t half so welcoming to homosexuality as Altea was.   
It was Nalquod’s loss, the general consensus determined, after Blaytz’s presence for all of one movement, in which his off-beat, bubbly sense of humor, outgoing demeanor, unbridled optimism, and surprising amount of candor and warmth managed to endear him to the others forever. He quickly became the linchpin of the team, often referred to as “their baby”, whom they needed to look after and take care of.   
It was on a hot summer day when Coran caught him swimming in a mountain lake.   
“Blaytz! What on Altea are you doing! Isn’t that water cold?”   
“Yes, Coran. But the sun is hot and it dries out my skin,” the amphibious boy explained. “Besides, it’s good to work my gills every now and then. They’ll get weak if I don’t swim.” Coran smiled, regarding the young lad before him. “You know, I never expected to feel so welcome here.”   
“Oh?”   
“Where I come from, I was always treated differently. I never thought…I thought I would be so unwelcome everywhere. I didn’t think I’d ever find a place for myself. At least not one where I could be myself.”   
“Well,” Coran said, sitting at the edge of the lake. “If you’ve got a place somewhere, but you’re not true to yourself, do you really have a place at all?”   
“I…I suppose not,” Blaytz said, eyes going wide. He tilts his head back, looking up at the mountain peak above them. “But still, I’m glad I came here. I have a place, a purpose. People who see all of me, not just one small aspect of who I am. I want to take the kindness you’ve all shown me and put it forward. It’s important. Everyone should have a place they can call home. And who knows, maybe one day, my people will see my work, and they will grow.”   
They had, Coran had learned recently. The people of Nalquod had grown far more open-minded in the last 10,000 years, and they hadn’t forgotten the young man who gave his life in the hopes that the universe would remain free. Coran hadn’t been quite able to keep back tears at the sight of his old, sweet friend immortalized with a coral statue in the deep where he belonged. Blaytz  would be happy, he believed, that his people had loved him, that he’d made a difference in the end.   
…   
Coran bumped into Lance beneath a streetlight. Quite literally. He had been watching the broken stone squares beneath his feet so he wouldn’t trip and Lance had presumably been doing the same.   
“Oh, I’m sorry Coran! I didn’t see you!”   
“It’s quite alright, son. Where are you going?”   
“Well, I was going to go bother Allura, but I think I’ll just head back to the Atlas. I need to make sure my stuff’s all squared away.”   
“I’m headed in that direction anyway. Mind if I join you?”   
“Not at all,” Lance says with a smile. “It’ll be good to have company for a while.”   
It’s nearing morning now. Coran can see the sky brightening in the distance. He hasn’t slept and he feels weary, but he’s reluctant to rest. He worries for the future.   
“You know, sometimes I still don’t get why Red accepted me.” Coran turned to look at the boy. He was pensive, deep in thought. “I mean, his first pilot was King Alfor, right? Like, what could I have in common with a king?”   
Coran smiles.   
…   
“Oh, come on, Coran! It’ll be fun and you know it!”   
“Forming a team of freedom fighters with your friends does not sound like fun, Your Majesty. It sounds like you and your friends getting yourselves killed. I’m not even sure Blaytz can fight! He’s practically still a boy! And Trigel is so little!”   
“Okay, first of all, you and I are both lucky she didn’t hear you say that. Second of all, Blaytz dual-wields scimitars and is an excellent shot, he’ll be fine. Third of all, it does sound like fun, but that’s not what’s important.”   
Coran sighed, replacing one of Alfor’s books back on his shelves. The man hated cleaning more than anything else in the world. Sometimes, Coran wondered if Alfor was truly an adult.   
“We could make such a difference, Coran. Even Zarkon, ruler of the largest empire in millennia, expresses concern for the freedom of some of the planets within our reach. He believes we have what it takes to take action against tyranny itself! I could do so much, Coran. And not just for Altea. For millions of people. All over the universe.”   
Coran turned to his friend and King. There was that earnest plea that he was so susceptible to. That idealistic hope that he could do something worthwhile on a grand scale. And the sense of adventure that was bound to get him killed.   
So Coran had caved. And it was worth the blow to his esteem when he saw just how much good Alfor was capable of. How much kindness. How much hitherto untapped potential the young Monarch had.   
Alfor had the potential to change the universe and the potential to nurture a small corner of the world in equal measure and seeing that potential in action had changed Coran forever.   
…   
“You know, there were aspects to Alfor that we don’t often speak of. He was a commoner who somehow managed to charm his way into Melenor’s heart. He hadn’t been born into nobility either. Because of this, he identified strongly with the everyman. I think more than being a King, what Alfor really wanted from his life was to make a difference however he could.”   
Lance turns to him, uncertain.   
“That’s why you joined the Garrison in the first place, isn’t it? To make a difference?”   
The boy looks down at his feet as they follow the long, streetlit road to Galaxy Garrison. He smiles a tiny smile. He’s grown up a lot, become far more serious in recent phoebs, but his kindness and compassion had never once diminished. The man behind the leader, the unsung genius behind the greatest among them. More content to make a difference than to lead.   
“So…he was just a normal, everyday guy?”   
“Pretty much. Granted, he became a King, but that was more Melenor’s doing.”   
“You don’t really talk about them like this, you know. Like, without their titles and stuff. Like you were all just friends.”   
“We were friends. All of us. Me and Alfor and the other Paladins and Melenor and Honerva. We were all this little impromptu family.”   
“Like us, huh?”   
“Yes, my boy. Like us.” Coran pauses. “I just hope it lasts.”   
“Hmm…It will if we see the streetlights turn off.”   
“What now?”   
“It’s supposed to be good luck if you see the streetlights turn off.”   
Lance stops at the fenced entrance to the Garrison compound. To the east, the sky is turning to gold, the sun preparing to make his appearance over the edge of the world. Coran thinks about the old Paladins, how they would react to this desert. Blaytz would probably hate it. Gyrgan would love it. Trigel would be running around trying to examine everything. Zarkon and Alfor would probably be too busy goofing around or arguing over something foolish to pay much attention.   
“I’m really glad we have you, Coran. You’re always there when we need you.” Coran slings his arm around the boy’s shoulders, giving him a squeeze. Lance squeezes back, and they stand there, just like that, watching light return to the world.   
“It goes both ways, my boy. And don’t ever doubt it.”   
The streetlights flicker off, leaving a few minutes of shadows in their wake. Then the sun breaks the horizon, and the world is drenched in light.   
Coran smiles. Luck might yet be on their side.


End file.
